Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek.

We pity the fool.

The only slight kink is that we're the fool quite often and we have no pity for ourselves at all.

But enough of my conversations with my spiritual guru.

We're here to talk about millennials.

It seems so long since we've considered the beings who are our future and wish they weren't.

Or, at least, who wish they didn't have to finance our future until they themselves try and con some gullible younger sorts to pay for their hip replacements and cranial adjustments.

Still, you have an image of millennials being astonishingly au fait with technology, don't you?

They meet each other not by looking at each other, but by swiping.

They dump each other not by having reasoned interpersonal conversation, but by texting.

And they don't bother to talk to actual humans because they're too busy swiping, dumping or doing something else very vital and virtual.

Here's a surprise. Millennials fall for tech support scams more than, you know, older sorts.

Please don't take my word for it (or anything). Take Microsoft's.

The company has just released a report that says millennials get taken in by pop-ups that claim to be from tech support, when all they really support is some nefarious scheme to steal money from your bank account.

Microsoft discovered that a fulsome 50 percent of millennials carried straight on with a nasty web interloper, believing that this incursion into their lives was genuine.

Those 55 and over tolerated this wheeze a mere 17 percent of the time.

34 percent of the indeterminate Gen X types succumbed.

You will prefer to reach a grand conclusion.

Millennials are, you will say, so obsessed with a life lived virtually that they have no filter between virtual reality and a nefarious group of Eastern Europeans. (I come from a nefarious group of Eastern Europeans, so I'm allowed to make that joke.)

I want to be more charitable, which doesn't always come easy for me because I come from a nefarious group of Eastern Europeans.

Still, perhaps millennials are only too happy to receive offers of help through their interweb connection. Perhaps they're more open-minded to the thought that someone would want to be on their side.

Perhaps they're just lonely.

Yes, this seems to result in millennials downloading software or visiting a scuzzy website that then attempts to divest them of their life savings.

Indeed, 55 percent of people in the US who go along with these scams end up losing money.

But there's something bracing about a whole group of people who aren't yet entirely cynical.

Microsoft says it never contacts you, claiming to be your friendly local tech support Mother Teresa wanting to save your digital soul.

So, millennials, if it does happen to you, please remember this one thought.

If someone spontaneously offers you help, always ask this one simple question: What do they want?

I always thought that about Mother Teresa. What did she really want?